


Love-Adjacent

by Cyan (vehicroids)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (if you squint), A little bit on the 'not romantic' side, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, I cannot - and will not - write anything not feelings-based, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehicroids/pseuds/Cyan
Summary: Their little game is the closest they'll get to love.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Niijima Makoto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Love-Adjacent

The draw to Goro Akechi is impossible to explain to anyone.

It isn't his charm - Makoto knows better than to fall for that fake  _ boy next door _ charm. She knows who he is, faults and all. She's pulled back his mask, and she knows just what lies beneath. That should be enough to pull her away, knowing the detective prince isn't as noble as he acts. But then, Makoto is no saint, either.

It started a while ago, when Akechi made a house call for Sae. Makoto had invited him in then to wait for her. Sae sent her a text, letting her know she wouldn't be home until the next evening. This left the house - and both of their evenings - free.

That's when it all goes wrong.

He comes over on nights he knows Sae isn't home, but he asks after her anyway. Makoto pretends she doesn't know why he's really here, and she lets him in anyway. He's always so warm, so polite, that she willingly walks into his trap. She's normally so rational, but with Akechi, all sense goes out the window.

She doesn't know why she's doing this. It's not out of love; she's certain Akechi doesn't feel anything for her. It's stress relief, if nothing else. Perhaps Eiko is right - Makoto really would flunk a test on love, especially if she willingly engages in this dance.

Akechi is at the door again tonight, asking for Sae. If Makoto had any sense, she would send him on his way. Instead, she invites him in as she always does. Akechi pretends to be surprised before accepting, leaving his shoes by the door as he enters.

She makes coffee, but it's always too bitter. Akechi smiles politely, and Makoto can't tell if he's mocking her or not. She tries not to let it bother her, but it does, quite plainly.

"I can't help but wonder why you let me in when I know how you feel about me, Niijima-san," he says.

"Do you?" Makoto asks, keeping her tone neutral and giving away nothing.

"You always seem so on guard around me."

Makoto puts down her cup. "Then why do you keep coming back, Akechi-kun?"

"Answering a question with a question, I see," Akechi chuckles, "but I'm afraid I don't have an answer. Not yet, anyway."

His laugh is as light as a feather, and it stirs a feeling in Makoto she doesn't want to face. It's one of many feelings she's dumped in a box and matted together like wires. She's never searching in the box, not if she can help it. Instead, she keeps the box of her feelings shut tightly.

"But I would guess the same reason you let me in," he adds, taking a sip of coffee.

"Which is?"

He laughs again, but the laugh is weighed down by something Makoto cannot put her finger on. He finishes his cup quickly, his face pulled back into a grimace for an instant before putting the cup down. He stands up and smiles politely at her once again.

"Thanks for the coffee, but I should be going. Thank you for your hospitality, Niijima-san," he says.

"I didn't realise you were in such a rush," she says.

"I did come for your sister, after all, but she's not here. I shouldn't take up more of your time."

Akechi says that, but he doesn't move. He's watching her, waiting. Just like Makoto, he's pretending he doesn't know where this will lead, that she's never stopped him leaving before. He's watching her like he's waiting for her to do something, so she stands up with him.

"At least let me walk you to the door," she says.

"Why? Are you worried I'll be hiding somewhere in the apartment?" Akechi says. "A joke, of course."

"I'm not afraid of you, Akechi-kun." She takes a step closer, squaring her shoulders.

He looks at her curiously as she tilts her chin defiantly at Akechi. Her heart bangs against her ribs, and she wants to reach out to him. This time, she's not the one who will lose their little game of chicken. She stares up at him, and he stares back. Akechi makes the first move: he closes the gap between their bodies, his hand a ghost on her hip.

"You have no reason to be afraid of me, Niijima-san," he assures her.

Makoto shakes her head. She shouldn't let this happen, but she will. She always does.

"Why would I bother kicking you out when I know you'll find a way back into my house?" she asks.

Akechi smiles down at her, amused. "You know, I've been wondering that myself."

Yet they will keep playing this game of chicken as if one day Makoto really will kick him out, or as though Akechi will walk out that door for good. It'll never happen. Despite the threats, they're linked together through a bond neither of them understand. She sits her hand on his, testing the waters.

"Sis won't be home for a couple of days," Makoto says.

"Oh, I know."

His other hand sits on the other side of her hips, pulling her closer. If Makoto cared, she would point out he's broken the rules of their unspoken game. She doesn't. His touch is venom, and it infects her mind with a thick fog. Makoto leans into him.

"Then you know where this is going," she says, staring up into his piercing red eyes.

"Do I? I think you should show me, Niijima-san," Akechi says. His voice is low, alluring, and it's what breaks the last of her defences.

Makoto throws her arms around his neck and forces her lips to his, but he's not surprised. He holds a hand between her shoulder blades, the other to the small of her back. His lips are soft against hers, but his kissing is anything but. It's animalistic and hungry as his tongue demands entry into her mouth, which she grants. She licks her tongue against his, earning a satisfied groan from Akechi.

The groan is enough to ignite the familiar fire in her stomach. 

She tries to pull away, to lead them both to her room, but Akechi isn't letting go. His grip is a vice, like Makoto is his and his alone. In a way, she is: she would never do this with someone else. If she really wanted to get away, she could, but she stays put. She breaks the kiss, just long enough to whisper against his lips.

"My room," she says, and Akechi nods.

He lets her go, only for her to grab him by the hand and pull him to her room. The door is closed, and the light remains off; it's her only stipulation for nights like this. The bright lights from outside are more than enough to see each other in. He's almost pretty in the colourful city lights, and Makoto can't help but admire him for a moment before her lips are on his again.

Akechi guides her to the edge of her bed before laying her down, crawling over her. Makoto runs her fingers through his hair and tries to brush it behind his ears, but it does nothing. It's a curtain between them and the outside world, where only they matter right now. This is all she wants to focus on.

He doesn't waste any time. He reaches under Makoto's skirt and pulls on her leggings and her underwear, and she lifts her hips to help him. She unbuttons Akechi's blazer and pushes it from his shoulders and leaves it as a heap on the floor with parts of her own clothing. Next comes her vest, then Akechi pushes up her white turtleneck up her head, which she drops off the side of her bed.

That look in his eyes every time, that sheer awe sends a shiver up Makoto's spine. His soft hands are all over her body, up her stomach and up to her chest. His touch does things to her head that she can't put into words, but she can drown in this feeling, lust-drunk. She pushes herself up and all but tears his shirt off, before running her own hands over his toned stomach.

Makoto has been here so many times before that she knows Akechi's torso by heart, yet the muscle always catches her off guard. He's attractive under the fake boyish charm and the sweet nature he tries to exude. This is the Akechi that Makoto likes, the one who speaks with a razor tongue and hands oh so willing to do as she wants.

She presses her palm to his clothed crotch and he gasps sharply. She palms his erection through the fabric, and the moans Akechi makes are extraordinary. She wonders if anyone else has heard him like this or seen him like this, but she doesn't bother to ask. What does it matter? It's meaningless fun.

Makoto unclasps his belt and unzips his pants, before diving her hand into his underwear. Akechi bucks into her hand, his usual composure gone. He reaches behind Makoto and unclasps her bra for her with no issues. The straps slide down her shoulders and he pulls it off the rest of the way, and Akechi’s hands are immediately on the newly exposed flesh. Akechi runs his thumb over her nipple and smirks as Makoto throws her head back.

“Ah- Goro,” she hisses.

It’s a name only reserved for nights like this, nights of their fake love. It spurs Akechi to call him by his real name, like it's a button that only she can press. She wraps her hand around him and strokes him with slow, purposeful flicks of her wrist. Makoto loves watching him writhe for her, desperately rutting into her hand.

"So tell me, Goro," Makoto says, pushing him down onto his back, "am I still the good girl pushover type?"

He chuckles. "If I say no, will you show me how wrong I am?"

Akechi is taunting her, but it works. Makoto tugs on his pants just enough to free his erection, and he shudders underneath her. He watches her, those red eyes making her feel more naked than she is. Makoto will never get used to him, no matter how many times they do this.

She sits herself on his lap, a queen on her throne, and Akechi sits his hands on her thighs. Makoto carefully guides him inside, and once he's in, she sets herself down on him. Akechi's back arches as he cries out, but she covers his mouth with her palm. They're alone, but she still worries a neighbour might hear them, and she can't explain this away.

Makoto rocks her hips slowly, letting out breathy little moans. Akechi rubs his hands up her thighs, before settling them on her hips. He looks up into her eyes with something Makoto can mistake for love, just for a moment before it's gone again. She can't help but look back down at him, fire staring into fire.

She rests her hand on his chest as she fucks herself on him. She keeps an agonisingly slow yet hard pace as she watches his face, and she can see his  __ pent up. Still, she keeps her pace, rolling her hips every time she brings herself down on him.

"Makoto," he gasps, "please."

She leans back. "Please what?"

"I need more," Akechi says, and Makoto leans over him, arms on either side of his head.

"Then do more."

He seems to understand this, and he bucks his hips up. Makoto half moans, half gasps, but her sound only seems to spur him on. His grip on her hips is tight, like she'll run away if he lets go. Makoto doesn't know if she can ever run away from this. He thrusts into her again, only to pull himself out almost fully. Just when Makoto lets her guard down, Akechi slams back into her.

Makoto grips his shoulders and digs her fingers into his flesh. Her hips meet his with a satisfying slap of skin, sending sparks up her body. His cock reaches deep inside her, and every thrust leaves her needing more. And God, is Akechi ever good to her. He flips their positions before throwing her legs over his shoulders. She doesn't get a chance to relax before he's back in her.

Akechi's face is in her neck, biting the soft and sensitive flesh that joins the neck to her shoulder. Makoto rolls her head back for him as she grips his back. Her nails are digging in, but this only seems to encourage him. She moves one of her hands to between her legs, but Akechi grabs her hand and pins it over her head.

"Not yet," he says.

The power he holds over her - the power they hold over each other, really - makes her stomach clench. Akechi's breath is turning ragged, and he's getting close now. He mutters her name, over and over again,  _ Makoto _ , gradually getting louder. It reaches a peak before he lets out a loud groan, pushing into Makoto one last time. Akechi shakes as he reaches his climax, before going limp above her. He releases her before pulling out, but she grabs him by the wrist.

"We're not done here," she reminds him.

With a chuckle, he guides his hand between her legs. "I know."

The moment his fingers make contact with her clit, Makoto melts. She keeps her grip on Akechi's wrist like she's got control over him, and he lets her. His other hand runs through her hair, so close to affectionate that she buys it, at least right now. His fingers are magic against her, working her with practiced ease.

Akechi's mouth finds her nipple and bites down on it lightly, before sucking at the hardening nub. His free hand works at her other breast, squeezing it carefully. Makoto moans as she shoves her chest out more for him, a silent plea for more. Makoto grinds against his hand; she's so close after their previous session.

"G- Goro," she chokes, and he looks up at her, fire meeting fire.

Just that look in his eyes is enough to bring her over the edge. Makoto jerks her hips forward as she cums, eyes squeezed shut. Akechi presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth before pulling away. She opens her eyes and finds him opening the door to the hallway. The light basks him in something otherworldly, beautiful even. She sits up.

"Are you leaving?" Makoto asks.

Akechi looks over his shoulder. "Are you asking me to?"

She should, but she never does. Makoto shakes her head.

"No, you can stay."  _ You know you can, _ she wants to say, but it breaks the rules of their little game. "Besides, it's… you know how the city is at night."

"You're worried about me?"

His expression softens into something genuine, but it's soon replaced with the usual fake, polite smile. Akechi turns to face her.

"Then I guess I should stay for tonight. I'm sure I'll be safe with you around."

Makoto snorts. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

He laughs, before getting back into bed with her. Makoto hesitates, but she rolls over onto her side, leaning her head on his shoulder. His arm sits around her shoulders, and her hand sits squarely on his chest. She wants to say something, but there's nothing to say. She knows what this is, and so does Akechi. She closes her eyes and lets herself drift off to sleep, using his breathing as white noise.

In the morning, there's hot coffee waiting for her in her favourite Buchimaru-kun mug, the one with a chip in the side. She takes a sip and it's full of more cream and sugar than she'd make for herself, but it's good. She looks around, but Akechi's clothes are gone, and the warmth from 'his' side of the bed is long gone. The only trace he was ever here is the smell of him on her pillow.

They'll see each other again at the station, she's sure. It'll be icy cold politeness, like last night and every other night didn't happen, back to  _ Niijima-san _ and  _ Akechi-kun _ .

Because this is all they are to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> D- don't ask me when or where this is set. Is it canon? AU? Who knows. Or cares.
> 
> God I cannot explain my love for MakoGoro, even in fic form. It started off with watching them interact in the school festival, two closely guarded people prodding and poking at each other, and I fell for them. They're my second fave P5 ship and I am not sorry
> 
> Also - no editing, we die like men. Still, lemme know what you think in the comments o:
> 
> I say 'there's no plot' but uhhhhh I do have a continuation in mind? Eheh :3c
> 
> Bug me on [Tumblr](http://vehicroids.tumblr.com) || [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vehicroids)


End file.
